Stranger Than Fiction

By Mark W. Danielson

The truth is stranger than fiction, so the saying goes. As a fiction writer, it’s sometimes difficult competing with the daily news. Fortunately, authors can benefit from these odd events for they stimulate our brains and sometimes spill into our manuscripts. Here are a few of my favorite true events from days gone by as well as some recent oddities.

I doubt that anyone will forget the Nicole Simpson, Ron Goldman murders that led to OJ’s slow-speed freeway chase. While OJ’s Bronco never made it to Mexico, it did prove that his SUV could reach freeway speed, even with money and guns on board. OJ’s trial held the media’s attention for months, and although his lawyers won the criminal suit, they lost the Brown’s civil suit. Now, you’d think that a person who has had such a brush with the law might be scared straight, but not OJ. Nope, he just can’t stay out of trouble and now he’s behind bars. No one made these things up, but if they had, no one would buy it.

Certainly Michael Jackson’s plight wins an honorable mention in the peculiar category, but don’t blame him. People love putting celebrities on pedestals just so they can knock ’em down. I never knew Michael personally, so my only comment on his Peter Pan lifestyle is he was probably doing everything possible to capture the childhood he never had. Unfortunately, his attempts at sharing that with others was often misunderstood and misjudged. Love him or leave him, Michael was an enormous musical influence, but if I were to create a fictional character like him, my readers would say I went too far.

Of course, everyone knows about these two celebrities, so how about some of my local quirks? The first one occurred on a recent trip to the coffee shop. We ordered two foo-foo drinks at the drive-through; one decaf sugar-free caramel macchiato and one white chocolate mocha. When we arrived at the window, the coffee chef asked if we wanted whipped cream. Assuming she meant for the white chocolate mocha, I replied yes. The lady then handed me a lid piled with whipped cream, and then handed us our coffees. Now, does this belong in a story or what? I think so.

For the next, hand it to the cities of Thornton and Westminster, Colorado, to create a traffic nightmare over the 128th Street Bridge they share that crosses over I-25. First, they shut the bridge down for six months for renovation, then six months later shut it down to replace it. When it opened a year later, the new bridge was four lanes wide, but only had one lane leading into it on either side. Now, with economic stimulus money, Thornton is widening their side to two lanes in each direction, yet the Westminster side remains unchanged. If this makes any sense to anyone, please explain it to me. Certainly, this is another ingredient for a future novel.

Last, but not least is personal license plates. Some are clever, some require interpretation, and others you just have to wonder about. We recently saw one that read, “MOM2TED”. Now, the question remains whether Ted is Mom’s son or whether Mom passes a lot of gas. Either way, this plate needs clarification. Too bad we didn’t meet at the traffic light – I would have asked her.

I’m sure everyone has a favorite story of their own, and I’d love to hear them. Some great ideas come from the news. All you have to do is evaluate the situation and build on it. So while the truth may be stranger than fiction, nothing says we can’t stretch it.

Where's the End of the Writing Rainbow?

By Chester Campbell

Christine Duncan wrote a blog on Make Mine Mystery last week about her dream job—writing. The only drawback, she said, is that it pays little money. That’s certainly true for most of us. We all have acquaintances among the lucky few who manage to live off their writing income. Most of the ones I know in this category make it off of non-fiction rather than novels.

Actually, I’d be happy to dwell among the group who “make a little money” off their fictional efforts. I seem to be mired in the ranks of those who spend more on their writing than they make. When you subtract all I spend on travel to signings and conferences, the cost of mailing books to reviewers and contest winners, maintaining a website and sending newsletters, organizational dues, and other promotional expenses, my income is wiped out.

I’ve always heard that you start making money on your fifth book. Well, it’s been out about three months. I’m doing better, and if things keep going well I just might make it this year. It would be nice if I didn’t have to spend so much of my retirement income on my writing habit.

Marilyn Meredith is a great believer in the outside-the-box method of selling books, meaning outside the walls of a bookstore. I’m beginning to subscribe to her theory. I’m trying to line up as many street fairs, libraries, craft fairs, book festivals and the like as possible. I’m a little handicapped with a weak, gravelly voice that doesn’t do too well for speaking engagements, but I try to make up for it with a wife who does a great pre-selling job before people get to me.

Of course, I still do all the promotional stuff I can, giving out bookmarks and promo folders, updating my website, blogging all over the place, trying to post daily on Facebook and Twitter, creating book movie trailers. Lately I’ve tried to curtail my online time so I can work on my sixth book, another Greg McKenzie mystery. Fans I encounter at church and elsewhere are forever asking, “When will the next book be out?”

Surely number six will put me well in the black. I can’t quit my day job—retirement—but it sure would be nice to enjoy a little extra income for my efforts. What do you think? Is that a reasonable expectation?

Understanding Assault Weapon Bans

by Ben Small

Many folks don't understand the 1994 Clinton Assault Weapons Ban, nor do they understand what are meant by the terms "Assault Weapons" or "pre-ban," nor do they understand what risks still await one who wants to add some cosmetic touches to their so-called Assault Weapon, even though the 1994 ban expired on September 13, 2004. I'll try to explain the basics here. But before I begin, please pardon the complexity and idiotic nature of these measures. Congress passed them, not me. And these laws have done just about nothing to stop crime.

The 1994 Assault Weapons Ban pushed by Clinton and enacted by Congress banned specific guns made by specific manufacturers. These weapons, all semi-automatic in nature - meaning they fire one shot with one trigger pull - included the specific models and manufacturers' names, and it included a catch-all for any other weapons which carried characteristics of those weapons. So, the definition of weapons included those specifically named and any others which fit this language:

A semi-automatic rifle that has an ability to accept a detachable magazine and has at least two of the following:

1) a folding or telescoping stock;
2) a pistol grip that protrudes conspicuously beneath the action of the weapon;
3) a bayonet mount;
4) a flash suppressor or threaded barrel designed to accommodate a flash suppressor,, and
5) a grenade launcher.

All but the grenade launcher are regarded by gunners as cosmetic issues. But having a grenade launcher itself, as long as your rifle didn't have one of the other listed cosmetic parts, was not banned.

Oh goodie! I could use a grenade launcher on my rifles, and Congress doesn't seem to think that, alone, is a bad thing...

Similarly, the ban with respect to pistols covered a semi-automatic that has an ability to accept a detachable magazine and has at least two of the following:

1) an ammunition magazine that attaches to the pistol outside of the pistol grip;
2) a threaded barrel capable of accepting a barrel extender, flash suppressor, forward handgrip, or silencer. (Nevermind that silencers are regulated anyway by the National Firearms Act);
3) a shroud that is attached to, or partial or completely encircles, the barrel and that permits the shooter to hold the firearm with the non-trigger hand without being burned;
4) a manufactured weight of fifty ounces or more when the pistol is unloaded,; and
5) a semi-automatic version of an automatic firearm (popularly called a "machine gun")

These definitions were taken directly from the Act. Additionally, magazines were banned if they could hold more than ten rounds, but of course, there was no limit to the number of ten-round magazines one could buy or carry.

There were also provisions covering certain kinds of shotguns, but enough is enough. You'll get the picture without adding the restrictions on shotguns.

The ban prohibited manufacture, transfer, or possession of a "semi-automatic assault weapon." But there were some exceptions to this part. It was legal to possess a weapon owned prior to the date of enactment, and it was legal to purchase a weapon made before October 1, 1993.

The legislation was largely regarded as a joke. So much notice was provided of these provisions, and the Act took so long to pass that manufacturers ramped up production of banned weapons prior to October 1, 1993 such that weapons covered by the act and manufactured before that date are still easy to find in new, unfired condition even now. Indeed, I bought a new pre-ban Bushmaster AR-15 legally in 2000. And the gun store from which I bought it had a huge collection of new, unfired pre-ban weapons for sale.

Interpretation of the Act is tricky. For instance, if you bought a kit, pre-October 1, 1993, which if assembled before that date would be a legal Semi-automatic Assault Weapon, but waited until after that date to assemble the kit into a weapon, your completed weapon assembly would violate federal law, because the law covered complete weapons, not kits or parts for them.

So, your perp or protag has a kit for an imported AK-47, or already has one and wants to add some cosmetic features. Is he going to violate federal law if he does so, now that the infamous Clinton Assault Weapons Ban has expired?

Well, gee, he'd better be damn careful, or the ATF (remember Waco?) will come knocking on his door. Why? Because of the Gun Control Act of 1968 and BATFE regulations thereunder, which make criminal the assembly of a rifle or shotgun using more than ten of the following imported parts:

(1) Frames, receivers, receiver
castings, forgings, or castings.
(2) Barrels.
(3) Barrel extensions.
(4) Mounting blocks (trunnions).
(5) Muzzle attachments.
(6) Bolts.
(7) Bolt carriers.
(8) Operating rods.
(9) Gas pistons.
(10) Trigger housings.
(11) Triggers.
(12) Hammers.
(13) Sears.
(14) Disconnectors.
(15) Buttstocks.
(16) Pistol grips.
(17) Forearms, handguards.
(18) Magazine bodies.
(19) Followers.
(20) Floor plates.

Understand, it's perfectly legal to add these parts or build a kit, as long as they're U.S.-made parts, which of course, are identical or better than the foreign parts. You just can't build or modify any semi-automatic assault weapon if doing so will mean you then have more than ten of these imported parts on your weapon. You can buy a completely assembled imported new pre-ban AK-47; you just can't build or assemble one with more than ten of these parts imported.

How much sense does this make? How would you like to do ten years in federal prison and pay an enormous fine just because you decided to replace your U.S.-made unfinished wood stock on your AK-47 with a nice laminated foreign stock? Or, as reflected in this picture, you wanted to match your fore-ends to your stock, and replaced one or the other (or maybe both) with a foreign-made part?


How's that for Buy America enforcement?

Summer Shorts: Love Is So Grand, Life Is So Daily

Photos: Tangier, May 1978

By Pat Browning

“When Ed and I decided to get married and live in his house, I wondered what to do with my camel.”

So begins a column on later-life marriage that I wrote for The Hanford Sentinel in the mid-1990s. My old friend and road buddy, Marlene (on the right in the photo), came across the clipping recently and sent me a copy. It brought back a lot of memories. The camel was a special souvenir from our 1978 trip to the Costa del Sol, with a side trip to Tangier.

We were at the dock in Tangier, ready to board the boat for the trip across the Strait of Gibraltar to Spain, when the camel seller showed up. I had spent all my money. He had a credit card machine. I didn’t have a credit card. We used Marlene’s card, and I hand-carried my souvenir camel all the way home.

Here’s the column as I wrote it about 15 years after the fact.

****
Love is grand, life is daily.

When Ed and I decided to get married and live in his house, I wondered what to do with my camel.

We're talking trivia here. That camel is a souvenir I carted home from Tangier and kept on display to remind me of good times. By the time we moved out some of Ed's belongings, moved in some of mine, and sold or gave away the rest, there still was no place for the camel.

It's in a cabinet in the garage. I see it when I look for the electric knife.

The road to marital bliss is full of potholes at any age. Later-life marriage adds a few of its own. For openers, you have two people who are saddled with the habits of a lifetime.

You hate to get up in the morning, love to stay up at night, You're crazy about cats and like to jet off to exotic places. Why should you change?

Because there's someone sleeping in your bed who's up at the crack of dawn and thinks nine-thirty is the middle of the night, who doesn't even like dogs, and wants to visit a buddy in Oregon.

Not important, you think, but it was a straw, don't forget, that broke the camel's back. Love is so grand. Life is so daily.

For some older couples the jolt of adjusting goes right off the Richter scale. They're in a lawyer's office before the ink dries on the marriage license. Couples who make it are those who care enough to give up some attitudes that probably weren't important in the first place.

On some issues, of course, you can stand fast. For me, it's ironing shirts. I don't do shirts. Never did, never will. I'm fair, though. I don't do blouses either. If it doesn't drip dry I don't wear it.

My friend Marlene and I hashed all this out last week over a Denver sandwich and a bowl of beef barley soup. We agreed that marriage later in life is special because you're really ready to settle in and grow old with someone.

My camel was small potatoes compared with the furnishings and frou-frou Marlene kept when she got married. In a weak moment, no doubt, Wayne told her she could refurnish his house any way she wanted. Like a flash, she hauled out his stuff and moved hers in.

She sold his patio table while he was sitting at it. When he said, "Whoaaaa!" as she took his favorite mirror down from the wall, she just reminded him of his promise. She has a frog collection you wouldn't believe and dispersed it to every room in the house. Obviously, she married a saint

Couples who make it to their 40th or 50th wedding anniversary often seem so compatible that you assume the marriage was made in heaven. More likely, they just learned early on what they could or couldn't do or have, and decided that very few things are worth a fight.

As someone (Mark Twain, I think) once said, most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.

Younger couples face the daunting task of building a life from scratch, of doing everything for the first time. Older couples are ready to start unloading responsibilities like mowing an acre of lawn twice a week. There are bank accounts, insurance policies and property titles to sort out Grown-up children don't always look kindly on Mom's or Pop's latest adventure.

But some things never change. Love is a wonder at any age. A first date is as nerve-wracking at 60 as it was at 16.

You get married when you're older for about the same reasons as when you were younger: for love and companionship, and someone to care when the world caves in on you.
****

It’s a bittersweet memory. Ed died in 2003. Wayne died in 2006. Marlene still has her frog collection. The camel went out with my other souvenirs in a garage sale before I left California and moved back to Oklahoma.

I have a framed snapshot of Ed sitting at our desk, playing a card game on the computer. In the background, on a corner of the desk, sits a souvenir wine bottle with a menu printed on it. It was a big bottle, either a Double Magnum or Jeroboam champagne bottle, from New Orleans.

That trip was in 1984, long before I met Ed. At some funky place in New Orleans, Marlene and I ordered a meal from the bottle, and then, of course, I bought the bottle. I hand-carried it home. Marlene carried the set of gumbo bowls I bought.

We weren’t even supposed to be there. We were supposed to be in Marrakech. Royal Air Maroc flew from New York City to Morocco once or twice a week. We had plane tickets from Fresno to JFK, through Denver, but when we got to Denver, a United Airlines employee had just rammed our plane with some kind of heavy equipment he was moving.

It was late, and no other airline had a flight that would get us to New York in time to catch Royal Air Maroc. We repaired to United’s Red Carpet club room, looked at schedules, and decided to go to New Orleans because we were wearing summer clothes.

And that is another story.

Copyright © 2009 by Pat Browning

The Mysteries of Exposition

by Jean Henry Mead

When your plot first unfolds, you have to decide how to spoon in backstory or exposition, which involves breaking from the main storyline to give your reader information relative to the plot. It’s the author’s way of telling the reader something rather than showing it.

Well-handled exposition provides perspective, dimension, and needed context that contribute to events in the present. A micro history, if you will. But exposition should be handled carefully. Comic strips and soap operas use the technique frequently, but novel characters should rarely use exposition to reveal past events, especially if they’re not relevant to the plot. Mystery novelists should write in a straight line with the story’s conclusion in mind, as though running a marathon with blinders. Forget those spectators on the sidelines. Always look toward the finish line.

An example of unnecessary exposition:

“Remember the key you found?”
“Which key is that?”
“Tied with a yellow ribbon.”
“Yes, I remember it well.”
“You said it was the key to your heart.”
“I’d been drinking champagne.”
“You dropped the key in my slipper.’
“Come now, Olivia, what’s the point?”
“Nothing, Derrick, nothing at all.”

If the above dialogue is a lead-in to a romantic scene central to the plot it’s fine, or if Olivia is planning to kill her lover, it’s okay to leave it in. Otherwise, delete it.

Dialogue that doesn’t contribute significantly to the plot should be eliminated, no matter how much you like it. When the first draft is finished and polishing begins, get rid of any dialogue that doesn’t characterize, provide limited exposition, or carry the plot forward. Any asides, cute expressions, and nonessential chit-chat need to go, no matter how cleverly written. Save them for the next novel and build a plot around them. Editors consider such nonessential dialogue “padding” and if your work is accepted in spite of padded prose, the copy editor will delete it for you. It’s better to do that yourself.

Don't Mess With Texas

By Mark W. Danielson

I love Texas for its attitude as well as its landscapes. Texas is “The Lone Star State” because it was once the Republic of Texas. Paris, France, still commemorates the Ambassade Du Texas, 1842-1843, as shown in the photo. Interestingly, the Republic of Texas’ relationship with France was strong enough to warrant naming one of its towns after the City of Light. Love it or leave it, Texas is one unique state.

I spent many years living in Texas, and from its panhandle to the Gulf, Texans are full of pride. The “Don’t Mess With Texas” signs that dot its highways warn outsiders of its no-littering policy, but truthfully, this slogan is also an anthem. Where else but Texas would you find a semi-automatic pistol mailbox? ’Nuff said.

Writers love creating Texas characters because of their distinctive qualities. Movies and TV shows love to portray oil barons as rotund, boozing, loud-mouthed middle-aged men who wear cowboy boots, cowboy hats, and drive Caddies with bull horns on their hoods, and while I’ve seen plenty of Texas businessmen in boots and hats with their suits, I can’t say that I’ve ever seen a bull-horned Cadillac on the street. Now gun-toting pickups are a whole different animal, and they’re certainly not on the endangered list.

Because of its stereotypes, people may not realize that Texas has as much geographical variety as California, and along with its topography, its dialects can vary by city. Even towns that are physically close like Fort Worth and Dallas have completely different feels, so if you’re going to write Texas characters into your stories, you had better know what you’re talking about. You’ll find Dallas is as cosmopolitan as Chicago while Fort Worth rivals any cow town. I suspect that Fort Worth’s “Billy Bob’s” is where the country group Alabama realized that “if you’re gonna play in Texas, you gotta have a fiddle in the band.” Of course, some might compare Houston to Nashville because it’s turned out so many country musicians.

The point to all of this is that researching characters is as important as researching locations. Sometimes stereotypes are suitable, but most of the time they’re not, and thinking that Hollywood has done its homework is simply naïve. For example, when some Navy friends of mine spoke to the director of the movie Topgun about its inaccuracies, the director replied, “We’re not making a documentary.” While it’s true that fiction writers make up their stories, unless you’re writing fantasy, it’s best to keep your characters and locations believable. Doing so makes it easier for the reader to put themselves in the setting and become emotionally attached to your characters.

Anatomy of a Critique Group

By Chester Campbell

The writers group I belong to started nearly 20 years ago when Books-a-Million in Madison, the Nashville suburb where I live, had a few round tables scattered among the bookshelves. I don’t remember who started it, but I have an old list with 25 names. I don’t recall more than ten or 12 attending at one time.

In the early days, some people read from their work and there was an open discussion. We had a conglomeration of writers at various stages in their careers from beginners to long-timers. I don’t recall if anyone had a published book, but the interests ranged from mystery to romance to fantasy and SF, plus short stories, poetry, non-fiction, essays, you name it.

It was as changeable as the weather in those days. There were a few dedicated writers who attended most of the meetings. Others came and went. After several years of shifting around the store, wherever we could find a spot, our numbers decreased to a manageable level. The store changed its location and did away with the random tables. We shifted to the Joe Muggs (café) area and settled on a two meetings per month schedule.

Five of us from the original group were still on board, and we had added a few others. Attrition weeded out most of those who weren’t serious about their writing. Our sessions became more useful with detailed discussion of chapters being read. We were not without our problems, however.

One member kept changing her story over and over as comments suggested things were not working out. It became apparent this would likely be a never-ending project. After a few years, she seemed only interested in discussing her own book, then would leave. She finally dropped out.

Another writer self-published a book and joked about only selling a few copies. Over the years he showed improvement in his writing but dropped out after a conflict with the meeting night. We lost another member who felt some of the comments from the group were overly critical.

My initial Greg McKenzie mystery, Secret of the Scroll, published by a small press in 2002, became the first from the group to go into bookstores. Beth Terrell, another old-time member and one of my Murderous Musings colleages, got her first book, Too Close to Evil, published in 2004.

We changed our meeting site to Panera Bread, down at the end of the shopping center, after tiring of trying to compete with Joe Muggs’ noisy cappuccino machine. A couple of years ago, we migrated to the Barnes & Noble store at Opry Mills Mall, which is more centrally located for our current membership.

We picked up a few newcomers and now have a compatible group of dedicated writers, including one specializing in non-fiction. The majority work in the mystery field. A couple of our members produce what I would call weirdly interesting stories. It’s an eclectic group.

For years we brought chapters to read, then went around the table with the discussion. After the majority of the group began bringing pages, we found the meetings lasted too long. Now we email our chapters to be read at home prior to the meetings. When we gather at B&N, the discussion can begin promptly. However, if there’s time, we do a lot of discussing books being read and whatever.

For several years we’ve held a Christmas Party in December. On the first meeting date in July this year, we had a Mid-Summer Gathering around a member’s swimming pool. We’ve capped our membership at eight, so any new member must be a replacement.

The three of us who’ve been around forever have learned a lot about critique groups. We’ve honed it down to a fine point now where we feel everyone is getting their money’s worth (it’s free, of course). We not only read chapters. When a member has a completed manuscript they want critiqued, one or more of us will give it a go. Some have attended Donald Maas workshops and other seminars. The current fiction market may be a snake pit, but members of the Quill & Dagger Writers Guild are ready to grab it by the tail.